


Lunch With Francesca

by dS_Tiff



Category: due South
Genre: Episode Related, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:48:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dS_Tiff/pseuds/dS_Tiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after the Season 3 episode 'Dead Guy Running', the events have caused an old memory to resurface and Francesca needs a friend to talk to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch With Francesca

**Author's Note:**

> As well as 'Dead Guy Running', this also contains a reference to the episode 'Bounty Hunter'. I hope you enjoy it.

“Will you please hold still Ray, I've nearly done it.” Constable Benton Fraser of the RCMP was a little annoyed. “You should have changed this dressing yesterday, I just hope you don't develop an infection. You know, I remember a time that Diefenbaker received a rather nasty injury to his ear. He had unwittingly disturbed a nest of furry...”

“I don't need another ear anecdote Fraser!” interrupted Ray Kowalski, currently masquerading as Detective Ray Vecchio, of the Chicago PD, fidgeting in his seat. He was still reeling after his encounter yesterday with crazed terrorist, Kuzma, which had left him bloodied after Kuzma had taken a bite out of his ear. As soon as his friend and unofficial partner had arrived and noticed that Ray was still wearing the same bandage from yesterday, which was now in a bit of a sorry state, he had insisted on changing the dressing right here at his desk. “Stop fussin' Frase,” said Ray, “I gotta get this report finished.” He leaned over to the printer and picked up a piece of paper that the machine had spat out moments earlier and then, glancing at it for less than a second, he screwed it up and threw it angrily at his computer screen.

“Ray!” Fraser exclaimed, as Ray's sudden movement had caused the bandage to slip out of his hand and onto the desk. “Try to remain calm. You have filed hundreds of reports during your time as an officer of the law, why is the Dinardo incident from yesterday causing you such a problem?” he enquired.

“I dunno, it just is. No big deal. I'm just bored. B-O-R-D” replied Ray, picking up a rubber band and absent mindedly twisting around his fingers, “shall we go grab some lunch? There's that new place round the corner we were gonna try.” He released the rubber band with each twist so that it snapped down on his hand, causing him to wince. The pain was taking his mind off the boredom.

“B-O-R-E-D” corrected Fraser “and lunch would be good.” He decided that a large bandage was probably unnecessary now and instead taped a much smaller dressing over Ray's injury. “There, all done. Perhaps you should try deep breathing,” Fraser continued. Ray looked puzzled. “As a stress relieving technique,” Fraser nodded towards his friend's fingers, which had started to turn a peculiar colour, “it may be less painful”.

Ray pulled a face and quickly liberated his fingers from their self-inflicted torture, throwing the rubber band into the bin under his desk and then kicking the bin across the floor in frustration. Diefenbaker, Fraser's half wolf, who had been dozing under Ray's desk, leapt up in alarm and settled in a new position out of harm's way.

“Thanks Fraser,” Ray sighed, gingerly touching his rather tender ear. He returned to his computer to try to finish his report, wondering exactly how he would explain the part about the dead guy they'd been wheeling around the station for most of the day. He looked up when Francesca Vecchio, Civilian Aid and the real Ray Vecchio's sister walked over. She stopped, not surprisingly, next to Fraser who was packing away the first-aid box.

“Hi Benton,” she said to him, smiling. Fraser, blushed, deftly avoiding eye contact and tugged at his collar.

“Um, er, hello Francesca,” he replied, awkwardly.

Ray stifled a giggle. “Hi Sis!” he said, but Francesca only had eyes for Fraser.

“These are all signed off,” she said, holding out four of Ray's case files. “Shall I pile them on top of the other ones,” she gestured towards Ray's cluttered desk, “or shall I just put them on the floor?” Ray scowled at her.

“I'll take them, thank you kindly Francesca.” Fraser took the files and Francesca returned to her desk. He turned to Ray, “I'll just file these for you and then we'll go to lunch.” He stepped over to the filing cabinet with the paperwork that he had just been handed, together with the other files from Ray's desk, but just then Francesca came wandering back over. Oh dear, thought Fraser.

“Benton,” began Francesca, “are you and Ray working on the report about yesterday?”

“Yes we are,” chipped in Ray, “well, I am. Benton is just doin' some filing,” he clarified, with heavy emphasis on his use of Fraser's first name, the way Francesca often did and grinning at his partner.

Fraser finally looked at Francesca. As usual, her presence was making him feel uncomfortable, but this time something in her voice had made him think that she was not here just to flirt with him. “Is something wrong?” he asked her.

Oh Benton buddy, thought Ray, just tell her you like her. If you don't do it soon, I'll tell her for you.

“Um, no, she replied, unconvincingly and then, turning to Ray she continued, “what are you going to say about Ray...about my brother, I mean?”

“Not a lot I can say, is there?” replied Ray. “I mean, I'm him, right? So I can't say he did somethin' coz that means that I did it and I didn't and anyway he didn't do anythin' so it doesn't matter, right?”

“Ray, that made no sense at all,” said Francesca, scowling.

“I believe what Ray was trying to say is that you needn't worry about Ray, the other Ray that is. Everything will be fine,” Fraser reassured her.

“Thanks, Frase.” She managed half a smile and returned again to her desk.

“What d'ya think's wrong with Frannie?” enquired Ray in a low voice, leaning across his desk.

“You noticed it too?” said Fraser, although he wasn't that surprised. Ray was a good detective and, despite the way he sometimes acted, he was actually very sensitive to the feelings of those around him.

Fraser thought back to the time, only a few weeks earlier, when Ray had offered his support after Janet Morris, the bounty hunter, had breezed into and then, just as quickly, out of his life. Fraser had been caught off guard when he had developed feelings for her.

As Janet was leaving they had shared a tender kiss and as Fraser watched her walk away, he had at that moment realised just how lonely he was. Choking back tears, he hadn't spotted Ray coming round the corner. Ray, of course, had been observing his friend over the previous few days and knew exactly what was going on. He had thrown his arm around Fraser's shoulder, “It'll be alright,” he had said and they'd left the station, heading back to Ray's apartment to eat pizza and watch a hockey game.

Ray had hated seeing his friend so down. “Maybe you could call her?” he had suggested to Fraser.

“No,” Fraser had replied. “She is undoubtedly a wonderful woman, but I do not believe pursuing a relationship would be right for either of us at this juncture.” They were just too similar, there would have been too many obstacles in the way and the novelty of the instant attraction would, no doubt, have worn off all too quickly, he'd thought.

“D'ya wanna know what I think?” Ray had asked. Fraser had shrugged and nodded. “I think that you...what I mean is...” Ray was struggling to explain himself. “Y'see sometimes I see a pretty girl and I think she's gonna be the one y'know, but she isn't, it's just that she's someone. A girl I mean. Do you know what I mean?” Ray had been aware that he wasn't making much sense. “You and me Fraser, we like different things when it comes to, er, the ladies, right?” Fraser nodded, he couldn't argue with that. Ray continued, “I mean for me, if a girl can ride a horse or fix a boiler, it makes no odds, y'know? For me it's the eyes,” Ray was smiling now, “always the eyes. Well...” he paused, a little distracted, “and, er, legs. Stella's got great legs, right?”

Fraser thought it inappropriate to voice an opinion with regards to his best friend's ex-wife's legs, so kept a dignified silence.

“What I'm tryin' to say is that sometimes it's more the, um the idea than the girl, y'see?” Ray finished.

“You mean that I was simply attracted to the idea of a relationship with someone like her, but not necessarily with her,” said Fraser succinctly.

“Um, yeah,” Ray was pleasantly surprised that Fraser had been able to grasp what he was talking about .

Fraser had sighed, his friend was absolutely right, Ray could be very insightful. The idea of having children, of being a family, had grown more appealing recently. Fraser's own childhood, while on the whole a happy one, had been somewhat unorthodox and disjointed. In fact, Fraser saw more of his father now that he was dead than he had done throughout his living years and Fraser had vowed that, if he ever got the opportunity, he would try to be a good father as part of a solid family.

Ray had gone on to share a couple of stories of his own failed encounters with the opposite sex, hoping that it would make his partner feel better. It had, a little anyway and Fraser had greatly appreciated the thought. That was the other side of Ray. Fraser felt lucky to have him as a friend. Most people only got to see the side that punched walls and kicked inanimate objects, the Ray who could always kill a conversation dead with a sardonic put-down.

Fraser was quickly snapped out of his thoughts by Francesca's voice. She had returned once again to Ray's desk. “Frase,” she said “can I talk to you?”

Fraser looked quickly at Ray, who was trying to hide his face behind a piece of paper and then back to Francesca. “Of course you can,” he replied a little nervously. They'd had conversations like this before.

She leaned a little closer to the Mountie. “Not here, Frase,” she said. There it was again, thought Fraser catching that slightly different inflection in her tone of voice. This is different, this is important, he thought. “Not in the closet either,” she continued, “I thought maybe we could go out to lunch? I think I need some air. There's that new place round the corner.”

Fraser hesitated, but he was now convinced that something was genuinely bothering Francesca. “Lunch would be fine,” he replied.

“Great!” she exclaimed “I'll get my purse,” and she strode back over to her desk.

Fraser turned back to Ray. “I'm terribly sorry Ray,” he began, “but I'm going to have to take a rain cloud on our lunch arrangements.”

“Rain check, buddy, rain check, replied Ray, a little despondently.

“Rain check, rain check,” muttered Fraser under his breath, “I'll make it up to you tomorrow,” he promised Ray. “Dief? Are you coming?” Fraser's companion had curled up in a safer location outside Lieutenant Welsh's office. He didn't react when Fraser spoke to him. “Oh, suit yourself,” dismissed Fraser, picking up his hat and heading towards the door.

“You be careful buddy,” Ray called out, “she'll eat y'alive!”

“Understood.”

Ray turned to Diefenbaker. “Well I guess it's just you and me for lunch then,” he sighed.

A few minutes later, Fraser and Francesca emerged out into the street. Fraser, ever the gentlemen, lifted his elbow slightly, allowing Francesca to link her arm through his as they began the short walk to the new restaurant on the corner. After a few paces, Francesca wrapped her other hand over Fraser's arm too and Fraser felt her grip tighten. “Francesca,” he began, gently, “what's wrong?”

Francesca stopped, pulling Fraser around to face her. He could see tears forming in her eyes. “I miss my brother,” she said, her voice cracking. Yesterday had been such a crazy day, but once she had got home, the feeling had overwhelmed her.

“As do I,” replied Fraser, patting the hand that she had rested on top of his arm, “as do I.” They walked in silence the rest of the way.

This new place looks nice, thought Francesca. A few of the others down at the precinct had already been there and apparently the lunch menu was really good. It was quite busy already and they were seated at a round table towards the back of the restaurant. Fraser darted to the other side of the table and pulled the chair out for Francesca to sit down. She was pleased to be out of the way, she didn't really want anyone she knew to see them. Ordinarily Francesca would have wanted the whole world to see her at a restaurant with the handsome Mountie, but today was different. She had barely slept last night and she wanted to talk to someone, to someone she could trust, to a friend.

They placed their orders with the waitress and she quickly returned with their drinks, assuring them that the food would not be long. Fraser thanked her kindly and then turned his attention back to Francesca. He was concerned about her. It was unusual for her to be so down, but before he could say anything Francesca said “You won't ever tell him I said so, will you?”

Fraser smiled. Francesca and Ray Vecchio were always at each others throats, but he knew that they both cared deeply for each other. Ray had all but told him so on more than one occasion. “I wouldn't dream of it,” he reassured her. He envied the Vecchios. They were a close family. It must have been hard for Ray to agree to go deep undercover knowing that it meant leaving his mother and sisters behind. “What's brought this on?” he enquired, but he had a feeling that he already knew.

“I'm sorry Benton,” sighed Francesca “yesterday was kinda crazy, but it just made me think about Ray. I mean I know he's been gone for weeks now, but I was so scared when you found Guy Rankin's body, I was scared that maybe he had killed him and...”

Fraser interrupted her. “No Francesca,” he said sternly, “Ray Vecchio would never have done that.”

“I know,” replied Francesca, “I mean I know that really, but he wasn't here to defend himself, he wasn't here to tell me I was dumb for thinking it. If you hadn't helped out yesterday, my brother could be dead by now. I mean, he could, right? We could have browned his cover.”

Fraser tried to muster a reassuring smile. “Francesca, I'm sure it wouldn't have come to that, and I believe you mean blown his cover.”

“Browned, blown, what's the difference?” asked Francesca.

“Almost nothing,” replied Fraser, waving his hand dismissively. Just then their waitress returned with two plates. “Thank you kindly,” said Fraser.

“I can handle myself, you know,” Francesca announced, suddenly.

“I am in no doubt about that,” replied Fraser, a little confused as he began to eat his lunch.

“What I told you yesterday, about Guy Rankin I mean, you didn't tell Ray, did you? I mean the new Ray, the current Ray...Ray Kowalski,” Francesca continued, lowering her voice, worried that someone might overhear her using Ray's real name. She had told Fraser yesterday about the incident with Guy Rankin, after he'd attacked her, hurt her. Her brother had come to her rescue using his fists in a fit of rage that had scared his sister, leading Francesca to believe, if only briefly, that maybe he had killed Rankin.

“Francesca, I realise that you were confiding in me yesterday and I can assure you that I would never betray a confidence,” replied Fraser. “Obviously Ray had to be aware of certain facts for the purposes of the case, however I kept the details to a bare minimum.”

“Thanks Frase,” replied Francesca. “You and Kowalski, you work well together, don't you.”

“He is my new partner and a good friend,” replied Fraser.

“My brother's coming back, you know,” continued Francesca.

“Of course he is,” said Fraser, suddenly realising what Francesca was trying to say, “my partnership with the detective currently known as Ray Vecchio does not in any way diminish my partnership with your brother,” he said, before leaning across the table as if about to impart a great secret. Francesca leaned forward too, offering Fraser her ear. “In Canada,” he deadpanned, “we are actually allowed to have more than one friend.”

Francesca sat back laughing and screwed up her napkin, throwing it across the table at her lunch companion. Fraser hardly ever made a joke. She was being silly, she knew that, it was just that she missed her brother so much.

“When I first came to Chicago, on the trail of the killers of my father, I was alone in this city,” Fraser explained, “I had been virtually disowned by my own people, by my country. Ray, your brother, not only helped me find my father's killers, during which time he took a bullet for his trouble, but he was also kind enough to help me with the more unfamiliar aspects of living here. I will always be grateful for his support and friendship, particularly during those first few months. Besides,” he added, “we had a lot of fun!”

Francesca laughed again. Fraser and her brother certainly seemed to get themselves into all sorts of interesting situations. Ray was forever complaining about how Fraser had ruined an expensive suit or a pair of designer shoes after they'd ended up in yet another dumpster, or a bank vault filled with water or some other crazy place. He was always saying that he would never work with the Mountie again after they'd risked their lives for yet another total stranger, but her brother never carried out his threat. In fact, Francesca thought that after Ray had started to work with Fraser, her brother had rediscovered the old enthusiasm he used to have for his job. An enthusiasm that he'd almost lost under a cloud of cynicism.

“Ray also stood by me when almost no-one else would.” Fraser's voice was quieter now. “I don't know what I would have done without him when Victoria...” He stopped and drew a deep breath. “He risked his career and his freedom and I owe him my life.”

Francesca looked at him in silence for a moment, she was surprised to hear her brother spoken about in such high esteem. She had been in Florida at that time, when her brother had accidentally shot Benton. Neither he nor Ray had spoken to her about it and she didn't really understand what had gone on, but she could see in Fraser's eyes that Victoria Metcalfe had hurt him more than Ray's stray bullet ever did.

“I guess it was tough on you when Ray left,” said Francesca, quietly. Fraser nodded. He'd been away, back in Canada, when the undercover assignment had arisen. It was top secret and Ray hadn't really been able to say goodbye properly, or tell his partner where he was going. Returning to find his friend had been replaced had been confusing for Fraser at first, but once the situation had been explained to him he had quickly bonded with the new Ray and not just through the necessity to keep up the undercover story. He almost felt that the new Ray was as lost as he, Fraser, had been when he first arrived in Chicago. Ray Kowalski had accepted the assignment to give up his identity because he didn't want to be Ray Kowalski any more. He was newly divorced, he never spoke about his family and he seemed to have lost all pride in himself, all sense of self worth, despite his record for bravery in the line of duty. Fraser had instantly felt that this Ray needed someone to believe in him, to guide him the way that Ray Vecchio had done for Fraser in those first few months.

Francesca sighed. “After yesterday, I got to thinking about Ray, about how he always looked out for me. Always. When I was younger, and you may find this hard to believe, but I was kinda rebellious.” Francesca roller her eyes as she said this. “I used to sneak out to meet guys, sneak cigarettes and that sorta thing.” Fraser didn't really find that hard to believe at all, actually. Francesca went on, “and if our Pa ever found out, Ray would always stand up for me, lie for me and sometimes he'd get a beating from Pa because of me. I don't think I've ever really thanked him, not properly,” she said quietly, pushing food around her plate with her fork. She wasn't really hungry.

“I'm sure he knows,” smiled Fraser.

“I don't do those things now, of course, but sometimes I just end up getting into trouble. Like with Guy,” she put down her fork and hung her head. “I thought he was OK. We were just having a bit of fun, you know? I was so scared,” her voice was shaky, “really scared. I didn't know what to do. If Ray hadn't showed up when he did...” She stopped to compose herself before continuing. “It wasn't the first time, you know, that someone... I mean there was this other time...it was much worse than...” she was struggling to speak.

Fraser had a feeling that was the case. Something about her eyes yesterday when she had been telling him about Rankin. Something in the way she spoke. This was what she wanted to talk about, he realised. “The first time for what?” he coaxed.

Francesca pulled her blouse a little way down her left shoulder to reveal a small scar just below her collarbone. Fraser had noticed it before, of course. He estimated that the injury had occurred around four years previously. “That was deep,” he commented.

Francesca nodded. “He was the maintenance guy where I worked. He was a creep. He kept trying it on with all the girls. He could do this crazy thing with a wrench and a pretzel. Anyway, we all thought he was harmless, but one night he followed me home. I was working late and I didn't even know he was still there. He jumped out in front of me and dragged me into this alley. He held me down, he had a knife...” Francesca couldn't hold back her tears any longer.

Fraser gingerly reached out a hand and squeezed hers. “Ssshh, ssshh,” he soothed. Normally he would have avoided any physical contact of this nature, particularly with Francesca, but this time was different. He had already berated himself yesterday after feeling awkward when she had been telling him about Rankin. She had been very upset, but he'd been concerned that anything he did to comfort her may have been misconstrued. He didn't make the same error of judgement this time. “What happened?” he said softly, not sure he was going to like what he was about to hear.

“Nothing really, well not nothing, but not what you're thinking,” she replied, and swallowed hard. Fraser was quietly relieved. “Apart from this,” she indicated her shoulder again. “I wasn't about to let him...” her voice trailed off again and she had to take a deep breath before she could carry on. “Anyway, there was this old lady walking past and I guess she heard me scream coz she was, well she was amazing!” Francesca smiled at the memory. “She hit him with her purse and she was cussing and yelling at him and he ran off. My shoulder was really bleeding and she helped me up and we went into the video store around the corner. They called 911 and then they called my house. Ray arrived before the ambulance.” Francesca smiled again. “He went charging back around to the alley, but there was nothing to find. They never caught him y'know. I always figured that he'd left the city. He knew my brother was a cop, so maybe he panicked and left?”

Fraser nodded. It was indeed a possibility. “I'm sorry,” he said. He wasn't sure what else to say.

“It was probably my fault,” she said, “Pa used to say I dress like a, well like a...” she didn't want to say the word.

Fraser was shocked. “No Francesca,” he said firmly, “your father was wrong to say that. You cannot take the blame. Your choice of attire is entirely that. Your choice. It is in no way an invitation for anyone to take advantage of you.” Fraser had encountered many attack victims in the past and he couldn't understand why they were always so quick to blame themselves.

“Thanks, Frase,” she said. “All this trouble with Guy Rankin just sorta brought it all back to me. I couldn't sleep last night. If anything like that ever happened while Ray wasn't here...” she sobbed and wiped more tears from her eyes. “Ow,” she said suddenly, rubbing her eye more vigorously. “Ow, ow! I think I got an eyelash...” she tried to pull at her eyelid to ease the discomfort, but her hands were trembling and her long, perfectly manicured fingernails were making it virtually impossible. “Ow!” Her eye, already red and sore from crying, was really stinging now and watering profusely as the mascara coated eyelash added to her misery.

“Allow me,” said Fraser spinning a vacant chair around and seating himself on it so that he was right in front of Francesca. “Just relax,” he urged and lifted Francesca's face so that it was level with his own, allowing him to examine her eye.

Francesca hated being so pathetic in front of Fraser, it was only a stupid eyelash, she thought, but she was exhausted and emotionally drained and she just couldn't help it. So she sat there and let Fraser tend to her eye. Her breathing was uneven and heavy. It was so unlike her to feel this low, she was usually so positive, but when feelings like this hit her, they tended to hit her hard.

Fraser gently took hold of her upper eyelid and brought it down over the lower one, twice, until the eyelash was dislodged and it fell onto her cheek. Then he quickly brushed it away with the tip of his finger. “It's gone,” he announced, adding, “are you alright?”

Francesca knew he wasn't only referring to her eye and she nodded. “Mmm hmm,” was all she could manage to say. She held his glance for what seemed like an eternity. He touched me, she thought, looking deep into his blue eyes and not being able to tear herself away. She couldn't quite believe his face was so close to hers, but even though she'd dreamed about this for so long, it didn't feel quite how she'd imagined. Her emotions were in turmoil and now she was so confused because today it just felt wrong. I've only got to lean in a little closer, she thought. “Benton...” she breathed and briefly shut her eyes, but when she opened them again Fraser had returned to his original seat and was, rather too enthusiastically, she thought, draining the last of the water from his glass. She felt suddenly guilty for making him feel uncomfortable after he'd been so kind to her.

He cleared his throat and passed a knuckle over his eyebrow. “Francesca,” he began, his cheeks turning scarlet, “your brother and I had a conversation once. Well, actually we had lots of conversations, but I'm referring to one conversation in particular. Although it wasn't exactly a conversation, more of a mutual train of thought...” he was getting very flustered. He was referring to a time when Ray had made it perfectly clear to Fraser exactly what he thought of any potential romantic liaison between his partner and his sister. Fraser wasn't oblivious to Francesca's feelings towards him. Indeed he was perfectly aware that a lot of women behaved in a similar manner. (It's just the uniform, he always thought, dismissing any suggestion otherwise.) Sometimes just her presence in the same room made him feel uncomfortable. He wasn't always entirely sure how to behave around her. A lesser man would certainly not have complained at all. Benton Fraser, however, was an honourable man. It was one of the few important things that his father had taught him. Well, that and how to fashion a dogsled harness out of your underwear, he remembered. He was not about to take advantage of her, especially not in her current vulnerable state. Maybe if circumstances were different, he thought, maybe if she wasn't Ray Vecchio's sister, maybe...oh dear.

“Francesca,” Fraser thought it best to return to their original topic of conversation, “you know that you can always turn to Ray, the current Ray I mean, if you ever need anything. He is supposed to be your brother. He would make an excellent brother and I'm sure he would be more than happy to help. I know he sometimes acts impulsively, but that, well, that's just Ray. He really does have a good heart,” he paused momentarily before adding, “or you can come to me.”

“Thanks Frase,” replied Francesca, smiling now. “So I've got two temporary replacement brothers now then, have I?”

Fraser nodded. Francesca wasn't sure how she felt about that. She really did like the new Ray, despite their seemingly constant arguing. She actually thought he was a decent guy. She could certainly relate to his fiery temper and she secretly found that aspect of his character quite appealing, the way he would always stand his ground and fight for something he really believed in. She couldn't understand why his ex-wife treated him so badly.

Also, in her head, she knew that having Fraser watching out for her while her brother was away was great. She couldn't have asked for a better brother. He was kind and brave and she knew he'd do anything for her if she asked, well almost anything she thought wistfully. Then there was her heart. In her heart the last thing she wanted was to think of Fraser as her brother. The thoughts she usually had about him were completely inappropriate if that was the case. She'd never encountered a man like Fraser before. She'd never had to battle so hard for the attention of the opposite sex, but he was different. Must be a Canadian thing, she decided. She was very grateful to him for listening to her this lunchtime though. She certainly felt much better now.

“There you are!” Ray Kowalski strode into the restaurant with Diefenbaker following closely behind. “I thought maybe you got abdicated by aliens or something.” He sat down on a spare chair.

“That's abducted, Ray,” replied Fraser, looking at his watch. “Great Scot! Where did the time go?”

“Is it late?” enquired a worried Francesca. She'd been so wrapped up in conversation that she hadn't noticed how long they'd been. “Has Harding said anything?”

Ray smirked at her over familiar use of their Lieutenant's first name. “Yeah Frannie, he's spittin' feathers,” he replied, exaggerating. “Don't worry, I covered for ya. Told him I sent you and Fraser down to the, er, evidence lock-up for me”.

“Thanks Ray,” she smiled, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I just need to go powder my nose,” and she got up from the table. Ray was a bit surprised at the kiss, but then Francesca walked round to the other side of the table and planted a slightly more lingering kiss on Fraser's cheek. Fraser blushed and did his best impression of a rabbit caught in headlights. However, she whispered a quick “Thank you” in his ear and squeezed his shoulder and Fraser felt that, despite appearances, perhaps this time she was trying to convey a more genuine form of affection.

Ray grinned and shook his head, greatly enjoying his partner's discomfort and he watched as Francesca walked away. Now, she has got great legs, he thought. “So, you're still in one piece then buddy?” he said. “Is Frannie OK?” he added, more seriously. “Looks like she's been cryin'?”

Fraser hesitated for a moment. “She's fine, Ray,” he said eventually, deciding that she seemed much more her old self now and glad that he had been able to put his own awkwardness aside to lend her a shoulder to cry on. “After the events of yesterday, she is concerned for her brother's well-being.”

“Oh,” Ray nodded. He had a feeling that maybe there was more to it, but it seemed to him that it was Frannie's business. Fraser certainly didn't seem too concerned any more.

Fraser paid for their lunch and when Francesca returned they began walking back to the precinct, with Dief running ahead. Again, Fraser offered her his arm which she took, prompting Ray to roll his eyes and bite his tongue to stop himself making a sarcastic comment. Instead he told them about a guy that Hewey and Duey had brought in over lunchtime. Something about taking random pot shots at people wearing hats.

Francesca watched him as he walked beside her, telling the story, then suddenly she reached out her other arm and looped it through his, taking Ray completely by surprise.

Fraser was quietly pleased. He remembered another ear anecdote and retold it with vigour, which distracted Ray enough for him to relax into the situation.

So now they walked along, the three of them linked arm in arm and Francesca looked from Fraser on her left to Ray on her right and back again. Yes, she smiled to herself, as temporary replacement brothers go, these two will do nicely.

THE END


End file.
